


Inhuman Desires

by Ariadne_Raven



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Awesome Melinda May, Dark, Ellen Nadeer is an evil bitch, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Heavy Angst, Hurt Phil Coulson, Inhumans (Marvel), Nadeer wants power, Nadeer's obsession with Coulson, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Other, Phil Coulson in danger, Protective Melinda May, Rough Sex, philinda free form
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:08:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 18,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26805634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ariadne_Raven/pseuds/Ariadne_Raven
Summary: Senator Ellen Nadeer wanted one thing and one thing only.To have Inhuman powers.In her convoluted and mad mind, she believed that SHIELD director Phillip J. Coulson was her ticket to that set of powers. And that she could attain such powers by having him. In every possible way.
Relationships: Phil Coulson & Melinda May, Phil Coulson/Melinda May
Comments: 60
Kudos: 43





	1. Prologue: Crossing the Line

**Crossing the line**

Senator Ellen Nadeer wanted one thing and one thing only.

To have Inhuman powers.

In her convoluted and mad mind, she believed that SHIELD director Phillip J. Coulson was her ticket to that set of powers. And that she could attain such powers by having him. In every possible way.

She took only a small group of trusted advisors into her confidence. And if they questioned her thought processes—or her very sanity—they didn’t let on. They nodded, and put their heads together, and came up with a plan to get the senator what she most desired. Maybe there was the occasional silent glance between team members when she wasn’t present, but hell, she was paying them, and paying them generously, so they would do her bidding.

Even if it meant crossing the line between legal and not.

They’d done that before, after all.

Items were purchased. A space prepared. Plans tested and gone over repeatedly. Several outsiders were hired to do extracurricular work—innocuous enough tasks that couldn’t be traced back to the senator.


	2. A glass of Scotch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some history and an invitation

**A glass of scotch**

SHIELD Director Phil Coulson didn’t take a lot of time off from his job. It wasn’t just a job, it was his life. His team was his family, and he cared about each of them like they were a brother, a sister…

…except for Melinda May.

Melinda, he was one hundred per cent head over heels in love with. And he had never made any move to show her.

Oh, they had been friends forever, pretty much since the first day they met at the SHIELD Academy. He was fresh out of Harvard with an honours bachelor degree in history. She had come from a Stanford engineering program. She was beautiful, tiny and a smart, sassy young woman. He knew he was a good looking guy, but he tended to hide behind horn rimmed glasses and his nerdy interests. Until he met Melinda.

They were in different streams at the Academy—she a Specialist in Operations, he in Communications—but they had classes together, including physical education. They became friends immediately, over their shared interests as well as their differing ones. Phil loved to swim, and play basketball, and Melinda encouraged these activities in him, along with martial arts and the regular regime of training that all cadets received. Melinda could put any challenger on the floor in a matter of moments during sparring, with her skill in jujitsu, karate and judo. Phil was always quietly proud of his friend when he watched her spar with others—and she gave him no quarter when they paired off, but there was usually some laughter and bantering throughout the session, and then they’d go out for a coffee or tea together once work was done.

Like any attractive, athletic, smart and red-blooded young man, Phil had his share of romantic interludes at the Academy as well as following graduation and his posting to the Triskelion. Likewise, his best buddy Melinda never wanted for dates, but she didn’t stay with anyone seriously. The two friends usually commiserated with one another—often with a good scotch and dinner at one of their apartments—when a budding relationship one or the other had begun ultimately went south. It was always comfortable between them.

Despite Phil’s heart. He knew precisely why he couldn’t go more than a couple of dates with any other woman. His perfect woman was also his work partner and his best friend, and SHIELD frowned on romantic liaisons between agents, at least in the lower levels. And Phil would do nothing to jeopardize his friendship nor his work relationship with Melinda. So he quietly worshipped her in his heart, and did his job brilliantly, and rose through the ranks.

But lately…something was different between them. After the huge fight they had at on the Bus and then at Providence Base on the terrible day SHIELD fell, Melinda was somewhat wary around Phil, who was her team leader even while the bonds of friendship were being strained. But before long he stopped her outside his office on the Bus, caught her arm, and began his apology—which he said he would complete “at length” a little later. He knew he had been wrong and mean, and had treated her poorly, and he swore he would make it up to her.

Which he did with a bottle of single malt, two glasses, and his office door locked so they could just hang out together for an hour or two without interruptions. They had talked it all through, and later they hugged, and something indiscernible shifted between them. They began smiling more, touching each other’s shoulder or arm or hand when they were talking. They had always been good friends and fiercely protective of each other, but something seemed warmer between them.

Then Fury came back from the dead, so to speak, and turned the rebuilding of the agency over to Phil. Now he was not only team leader but Director of all SHIELD, gathering assets and resources, building a new and covert agency. It was exhausting, but he loved the work, and the people he worked with. Especially a petite, dark-eyed Asian woman who could put him on the floor in hand to hand training without even breaking a sweat.

These thoughts rolled through Phil’s head as he looked again at the text Melinda had sent him an hour ago.

_“Hey gorgeous! I think it’s time we talked—at length—over a scotch or three or many about where we’re going as friends and colleagues. Meet me at the pub in town at 730? On the QT, so the rest of the gang doesn’t invite themselves along. m. <3”_

He had stared at his phone, and a rush had gone through him. _Gorgeous_? _Where we’re going_? A heart emoji? Was this what he thought it meant? He had replied,

_“You bet! You’re buying the first round. xo P.”_

He had hesitated over the xo, but decided to live a little dangerously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning... it might get dark very soon.


	3. Welcome to my parlour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coulson finds himself in a sticky situation.

Coulson struggled to clear his head. What the hell had happened? There was a powerful aching in his head, throbbing with his pulse. Slowly, he tried to open his eyes, but could see nothing. Was he dreaming? He lifted his head; or rather, he tried to, and felt the bite of something stiff around his neck. An attempt to lift his hands to his face failed. He was shackled to something.

“What the fuck?” he said—or tried to say. Then he realized that there was something in his mouth. Fighting down the rising worry in his chest, he probed with his tongue. Or tried to.

A rubber gag filled his mouth, holding down his tongue from much movement. Pushing it forward, he could feel the wide muzzle that covered his mouth, wrapping around his jaw completely.

He struggled, trying to determine what held him, and then he realized his legs were bound, too. He was pretty certain he wasn’t a willing participant in some scene. He rifled through his thoughts, trying to remember what mission he and his team were on, and what might have happened.

“Breathe, Phil,” he told himself. “Deep breaths. Figure this out. What were you doing last you can remember?”

From the time of his graduation and first placement as a green agent, Coulson had been described by the higher-ups at SHIELD as brilliant, especially as an analyst and tactician—someone who could see so far out of the box, NASA would need to use _H_ _ubble_ or _Chandra_ just to _find_ the box, let alone figure out how he had arrived at his analysis. He was quick, fierce and firm, surprisingly cold and commanding when he needed to be, but also compassionate and humane to those he dealt with, often using snark and his weird sense of humour to disarm his enemies—or relax his team.

Level-headed and a hugely kind-hearted man, deeply respected by his colleagues—and, although he was oblivious to this, he was sighed over dreamily by more than a few of his female colleagues—Coulson had risen through the ranks because of his thoughtful, skilled ways as an agent. He wasn’t inclined to panic, either—he had been in many tight spots before. Deadly spots.

He had died at the hands of the Asgardian Loki, only to be resurrected by then-director of SHIELD Nick Fury, who had ordered his crack medical team to use an alien substance—GH-325, which included components of alien Kree DNA—to bring his best agent back to life.

Then, because Coulson had lost the will to live after such horrors, Fury had his team erase some of Phil’s memories and replace them with happier memories. Of Tahiti. A magical place. Except it was actually a SHIELD program, TAHITI, and fraught with more dangers than death.

Doubts had gathered more and more densely in Phil’s mind, making him question his very sanity, until he had figured out, with the help of HYDRA captors who kidnapped and tortured him, and a highly unpleasant memory recovery machine, what had really happened to him. He hadn’t been dead for 8 seconds, or even 40. He had been dead for days.

To say the least, that was beyond bad. But he got through it through sheer strength of will, and the support of the team around him.

Then there was the alien writing, prompted by the homing beacon in the Kree DNA. He had ordered his best friend, partner, and (in his heart he truly hoped one day,) future soul mate, Melinda May, to cross him off if he started to go mad as had happened to other patients of Project TAHITI. 

That had been harrowing, but they prevailed, solved the riddle and gotten through that crisis, too.

There had been other bizarre and terrifying events in his recent life. Foremost among these was the interdimensional travel to the weird and dark planet of Maveth, where Phil had taken the life of traitorous former agent and now HYDRA henchman Grant Ward…The team thought that chapter was closed, only to discover that Ward’s body had become inhabited by a superhuman and immortal creature known as Alveus, or Hive, which followed Coulson through the portal to Earth and fought viciously to take over the Inhumans and turn humanity into a subspecies that was horrific—deadly strong, but stunned, and held to command by Hive’s sway.

Coulson and his team had finally defeated Hive, only made possible by the selfless sacrifice of young agent and Inhuman Lincoln Campbell. That lost Phil his adopted daughter—Skye, now Daisy Johnson—for months as she mourned the loss of her lover Lincoln, and fought to right wrongs she felt she had been responsible for.

Ultimately, they got her back. She had been leading a crusade against the anti-Inhuman supremacist group the Watchdogs when he found her, reasoned with her, begged her even, and she still helped lead that charge now that she was back with SHIELD.

Then there was the whole Radcliffe fiasco, with his Life Model Decoys, and his plans for the Framework, and that evil bitch senator Ellen Nadeer…

Wait.

Nadeer had sworn revenge on Coulson for stopping the Watchdogs from their reign of terror…was it possible…?

He pushed that thought aside for a moment and concentrated on his breathing, like Melinda May had taught him years ago, when on the rare occasion pre-action adrenaline about a mission threatened to cascade him into anxiety rather than action.

_May. Oh._ In his mind, he saw himself with Melinda, out at the pub in the town nearest to the base, enjoying a glass of Scotch.

_Or many._

Was this some game she was playing?

No. It didn’t feel right. The fuzziness in his mind, the pain in his head…Melinda would never hurt him. They were best friends. Well, yes, he quietly loved her with every fibre of his being, but as far as he knew, she thought they were just best friends. He held his love in check, always. Or almost always. Lately, he thought he had seen _her_ looking at _him_ more tenderly than as just a friend. Touching his arm, his shoulder, his hand. Flirting—was that possible? With him. And he KNEW when he was being completely honest with himself, in the darkest of night alone in his cabin, that despite being so careful, there were times when he felt vulnerable or safe—sometimes both at the same time—and when he dropped his guard and gazed at her with naked adoration in his cobalt blue eyes, like she was the most important person in the world.

To him, she was that. She was the missing pieces in his heart, his life.

_Okay, Phil,_ he thought to himself. _Enough of this. Work the problem. Time to figure this out and make a plan._ Hopefully the team is searching for him. Since he had no idea if he’d been held for minutes, hours, or days, he didn’t hold too much hope of an imminent rescue.

He heard a door open. A clacking of high heels, a rustle of fabric, a scent of perfume—Poison, by Christian Dior. And before she said anything, he knew exactly who had captured him. And it wasn’t good.

“Hello, Agent Coulson,” Senator Ellen Nadeer said silkily. “Welcome to my parlour.”

He thought that was apt. She was the spider. And he the fly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are probably giant plot holes in this. I hope not. I may keep going or I may delete the whole thing.


	4. The spider and the fly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Definitely a fly caught in a web.
> 
> His eyes shot back to Nadeer, who was smiling at him. And not at all in a nice way.
> 
> “We’re going to get to know each other much, much better, Phil,” she remarked in a matter of fact tone, “and you’re going to give me what I want.”

**The spider and the fly**

The clacking of heels moved close to him, and the perfume surrounded him, filling his senses with nausea. The Senator ran a hand up his leg, across his chest, possessively, and he realized that he was mostly unclothed—just how unclothed, he wasn’t sure because she had him caught fast. Her fingers curled around the leather collar around his neck, and she tugged on it briefly, before tiptoeing her fingers up his neck to his face. Testing the muzzle gag binding his mouth. Touching him cheekily on the tip of his nose, then satisfied that he was secure and helpless, she pulled the blindfold from his eyes.

He blinked against the sudden light, stared at her before trying to lift his head to assess his situation. He was on a frame of some sort, with cushioning under him, and his arms were shackled to the edges of the frame. He assumed his legs were similarly bound, and he knew about the collar around his neck holding him further captive. He tensed, flexing his body, and then he felt the wide bands across his chest, thighs and lower legs.

Definitely a fly caught in a web.

His eyes shot back to Nadeer, who was smiling at him. And not at all in a nice way.

“We’re going to get to know each other much, much better, Phil,” she remarked in a matter of fact tone, “and you’re going to give me what I want.”

She ran her hand possessively and approvingly down his well-muscled chest, down his flat stomach, eyeing him like she was going to devour him whole. Her hand kept going, reaching his cock…

…Which was flaccid. _Thank you, dread lord Cthulhu_ , Phil thought to himself. He couldn’t see getting it up for this woman, if this was what she wanted. No way. She couldn’t make him—surely not.

Nadeer seemed unphased by his lack of interest in her. “We will change that shortly,” she told him with an evil glint in her eye. She stepped away from the frame, went to the door, and said something in a low voice to someone just outside.

A white-jacketed woman wearing a surgical mask and cap came into the room pushing a cart with some paraphernalia on it. Including, Phil saw with a sinking heart, several bottles that looked like they held injectable drugs.

“SHIELD isn’t the only agency doing research on drugs,” Nadeer leered at him as he lay helpless in front of her. He hoped his eyes were showing nothing—no fear, no anger, no concern. He concentrated on his breathing again. Heard Melinda’s voice coaching him. Pictured her beautiful face in his mind. Her perfect lips, her warm and deep brown eyes. Her silken hair. Her perfect, slender but powerful body…

And then he thought she was standing in front of him. What? He blinked, focused…and she _was_ standing there. Holding a syringe that she was filling with one of the drugs.

How could this be?

“I know you’ve already met my friend Melinda May the LMD,” Nadeer chortled. “You had drinks with her last night. And she drugged you and brought you to me.”

Phil jerked his glance from the fake May to Nadeer, who chuckled again. “Radcliffe does great work…and he owed me after I got him off without penalty for the work he had been doing for HYDRA,” she told him. “I asked him to make me an LMD of your beloved May, and he did a brilliant job…adjusting her programming to obey MY objectives.”

Phil didn’t scare easily for himself, for his own life. He was fiercely protective of his team, and at times a cold hand of fear crept across his neck as he worried about his people—his family, they really were. Especially for Melinda. Who was fearless, and strong, and smart and utterly loyal. But he still worried about her. They had patched each other up enough over the years that he could likely identify every scar on her body—most of them, anyway—and she, his.

But now, he felt the icy tentacles of fear creeping up his spine, into his stomach. He dreaded the thought of what was to come.

Torture? He’d handled that before. Been beaten, tazed, waterboarded, put through HYDRA’s mind machine, and a host of other unpleasantries. But he had a feeling that these weren’t Nadeer’s intentions. Not yet, anyway.

He shut his eyes as the Maybot stepped to his bound form, swabbed his arm with alcohol, and injected the contents of a syringe into his arm.

Nadeer couldn’t resist taunting him a little more. “You’ll have no choice but to service me,” she said triumphantly. “Our special cocktail will remove any resistance to me you’re feeling, and will prompt you to get a lovely erection on that delectable cock of yours.” She paused, willing him to open his eyes, and when he didn’t, she grabbed his face and commanded, “Open your eyes!”

Phil slowly obeyed the woman leering down at him. “And in case you wondered,” she added, “We’ve already tested your sperm for fertility, and you have plenty. So you will give me what I want. If not today, in the coming days…and nights…and days…”

He felt his skin crawling, and his innards clench in horrified nausea. _I must not be sick_ , Phil willed himself. _I cannot vomit with this thing in my mouth. I can’t. I just have to get through what’s coming._

Which was, apparently, going to be him, whether he liked it or not. He felt himself starting to swell in response to her hand possessively caressing him.

“Shall we begin?” Nadeer said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all for your comments and kudos. This is a bit nerve-wracking and your encouragement helps so much.


	5. The futility of resisting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil struggled with the war in his mind and body. He was helpless to resist the woman’s commands, and his body was likewise helpless, but inside his mind, he wailed his despair. Melinda! My love, he thought. Will I ever see you again?

**The futility of resisting**

Nadeer began slipping off her clothes, handing them to the Maybot, who was standing motionless at the head of the frame. The Maybot folded them carefully and set them aside on a bench, then returned to her silent stance behind him.

Phil could feel his resistance departing as Nadeer stroked his body, fondling his private parts. Despite the nausea in his stomach and his mind, he knew he was about to be forced into sex, and that there was nothing he could do about it. There was no point in telling her that he had no Inhuman genes—rather alien blood and DNA coursing through his veins. She either wouldn’t listen, or, enraged, she could become even more dangerous than she already was. He didn’t even dare think about the woman he loved, in order to try and get through this ordeal—not with her golem standing silently on guard.

Nadeer hopped onto the frame, straddling Phil’s chest while he blinked helplessly at her. She looked at the Maybot. “Remove the gag,” she said. “I want his mouth on me.” The Maybot obeyed, unbuckling the rubber muzzle binding him, not ungently, and removing the mouthpiece from between his lips. He glanced gratefully at her as she swabbed his mouth with lemon water, and then Nadeer was leaning forward, thrusting her breasts at him.

“Make me want you,” she commanded. “Make me wet. I will know if you require another injection to curb your rebellious mind.”

Phil couldn’t lift his head much because of the wide leather collar around his neck, but he did his best, suckling one nipple into his mouth, running his tongue over it and feeling it contract and harden. Nadeer looked approvingly at him, and he switched to her other breast, sucking it as hard as he could. He moved from one to the other, back and forth, as the woman sitting on him moaned her desire, thrusting her breasts further into his face.

Nadeer glanced at the Maybot. “Do your memories have anything of his sexual abilities?” she asked. “I’m sure he and May have been fucking for years.”

The Maybot looked slightly pained and shook its head. “I have no memories of this,” it said. “She has great desire for him—love, even—but they’ve not consummated it.”

“What a shame,” Nadeer said sarcastically. “Maybe if he performs well enough and wears me out, I’ll let you have a turn on him.” She looked back down at Phil, who had blanched and stopped his movements. She grabbed his nipples and twisted them, hard. “Did I tell you to stop?” she said harshly. “Get back to work!”

He didn’t know how long he worked her breasts, while she played with herself and rubbed her body over his. Suddenly, she pulled up, and slid back on him to rub herself on his hard cock. He let a groan out of him.

“Please…” he whispered. “Please don’t do this. It won’t give you what you want.”

In response, she grabbed his erection, and slid the throbbing head against her dripping lips. “It will!” she sang out. “I want your Inhuman genes…want to become Inhuman and produce progeny too. My scientists assure me that you will impregnate me!” She paused for a moment and slid down on his erection.

“Besides which, I want to take you from Melinda May, sully you, break you, own you, and make you pay for snarling my plans,” she gloated. “This will hurt you, and her, more than any torture I could think of…” She thrust herself against him. “Now. Move.”

“I can barely move,” he said softly. “You have me bound so tightly that I can’t give you my strength.”

Nadeer paused in her movements and considered the man splayed out beneath her. Even bound like this, drugged and helpless, he was so very handsome, desirable…and hers to command, humiliate and enjoy. She glanced at the Maybot. “What do you think?” she said conversationally.

The Maybot considered. “I could remove the straps from his neck, his chest, his thighs,” it said. “He’s not going to break loose from those shackles on his wrists and ankles.” It paused for a moment. “But I’d replace them when you’re done this round. Just in case.”

Nadeer nodded and leaned forward again before plunging down on Phil’s cock. She thrust her breasts back in his face. “Work me over, Coulson,” she commanded. “The sooner you shoot your load into me and make me come, the sooner you can have something to drink and eat before the next round.”

Phil struggled with the war in his mind and body. He was helpless to resist the woman’s commands, and his body was likewise helpless, but inside his mind, he wailed his despair. _Melinda! My love_ , he thought. _Will I ever see you again?_

His treacherous hips snapped upward into Nadeer as she clenched on him, riding him hard, and he felt her walls begin to contract at the same time as she shoved his face between her breasts and grinned triumphantly at him.

“You’re mine,” she said. “Now…come in me. Give me what I want. If you don’t…we have toys here to stimulate you like we did when you were unconscious, and we took your semen for testing!”

Phil shut his eyes and tried to pretend he was doing all this of his own volition. He felt the pressure in his balls as they tightened, and then he jerked hard into Nadeer’s snatch, contracting his whole body against the bonds holding him, emptying his seed into her. Even as he felt consumed with grief and shame in his heart, his treacherous cock was gleeful, ready for a short break then to go again. As many times as Senator Nadeer wanted.


	6. Where’s Phil?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team realizes their leader is missing. Melinda admits her feelings--to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll give poor Coulson a little breather while we put the SHIELD team to work.

Earlier that day, Melinda May—the real, flesh and blood woman—strode into the lounge of The Playground where Daisy, Mack and Yo-Yo were engaged in a fierce game of Scrabble. They were having a blessed bit of downtime between crises and world-saving adventures. She knew that FitzSimmons were in their lab pondering their latest puzzle, but she’d address them shortly.

“Anyone seen Coulson today yet today?” she asked. “He’s not answering his phone—it appears to be shut off—and his quarters seem undisturbed.”

Her teammates paused as one and looked at each other, then at her. “Not since last night at supper,” Daisy said slowly. “He was in a great mood and said he was going out for a while.” She looked at Melinda, a tingle of fear tracing up her spine. “You don’t suppose—”

“I don’t suppose anything,” Melinda snapped, then she caught herself. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t called for. If he had gone out to go on the town—” something he hadn’t done in years— “he would have told me.” She thought, _Maybe he would have taken me with him. Maybe we’d finally have that bottle of Haig_ …

Mack got to his feet. “What should we do?” he asked his friend and colleague.

Melinda glanced at her watch. “I’m going to go talk to FitzSimmons, and see if they know anything,” she said, and turned to go to the lab. There was a low buzzing of alarm starting to build in her head, but she was determined to not jump to conclusions. _Keep your cool, May,_ she told herself. _He’s probably off somewhere getting lucky._

And not with her. Which was a great distress to her, when she looked inside her heart honestly. But she quickly dropped the curtain on those thoughts and focused on the job at hand.

Entering the lab, May looked at her two younger colleagues—brilliant scientists both of them, Jemma in bio-chem, Fitz in engineering—and gave them a worried half-smile.

“I can’t find Coulson,” she said to them. “Can you find him by the SHIELD tracker he has in his arm?”

Fitz nodded. “I should be able to do that for you no problem,” he said in his rich Scottish burr. He went to a computer terminal, punched in a couple of commands, and frowned at his screen. Melinda came to his side. “What is it?”

Fitz pointed at the map on the monitor. “It’s showing him here, in town at that pub we go to now and again…but it’s 1030 in the morning. Unless he’s on a bender—and I’ve never seen him do that—he can’t be there. Or else he’s hurt, sick…why hasn’t he called in?”

Melinda stared at the screen. Why indeed? She nodded and turned on her heel, nearly running from the lab. At the door she paused and looked at her colleagues. “Wait for my call, but ready the Quinjet and our team. We may be on an extraction shortly.” She strode through the hallways to the hangar, where she grabbed her helmet and jumped onto her Harley motorcycle, fired it up, and went out the side door as it parted for her.

A twenty-minute ride to the pub confirmed her fears. Phil wasn’t there—but he had been. With a woman, the night before. The bartender agreed to let her look at security footage from the night; and as they scanned it, he looked at her curiously.

“Were you two so drunk you don’t remember being here?” he asked with a chuckle as May’s face showed on the screen, sitting beside Phil in a booth, both of them drinking. Or rather, Phil was drinking, and the woman who looked like May was pretending to, while they laughed and flirted with each other. Then they were kissing messily, and groping each other…and then he was obviously not feeling well, some sort of distress all over his handsome face, and she was helping him to his feet, throwing money on the table, and escorting him out of the pub.

May stared at the screen in disbelief. “That wasn’t me,” she said stonily. “I haven’t seen him since yesterday afternoon. Someone is playing some sort of a prank.” She got up and strode to the bathrooms, where she knelt and looked cautiously in the garbage can. She saw the glint of metal, opened her messenger bag, took out a pair of forceps and a set of latex gloves, and carefully pushed aside paper and reached for the shiny object.

Phil’s tracker, still with a little blood on it. No doubt, his blood.

Melinda placed the tracker in a specimen bag, then pulled out her phone and hit the first autodial. When Daisy answered, she said, “I believe Phil’s been kidnapped. By someone wearing my face. Ready the team. I’ll be back in 10.”


	7. Variations on a scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every man's dream? Not really.

Phil came awake abruptly, startled into consciousness by someone slapping his face. He opened his eyes to find Ellen Nadeer staring down at him. “Wake up, loverboy,” she said. “It’s time for a change of scenery and a little variety.”

The Maybot snapped a chain to a link on the collar around his neck and handed it to Nadeer while she changed his position. Releasing his arms from the frame, she cuffed them tightly behind his back and locked them to a wide leather strap fastened around his waist. Then she put leg shackles on him, pulled him upright, connected them by another chain to his waist, and dragged him to his feet. In place of the rubber gag he’d been bound with earlier, his mouth had been stuffed with something silky—Nadeer’s panties, he figured with revulsion—and taped tightly. Thus captive, he followed behind Nadeer, shuffling and clinking, wishing he could fall through the floor and into another dimension, as they went into a different room.

A playroom. Not for kids. For someone into the BDSM scene. He stared around the room, looking at the various implements, furnishings and ‘toys’. Floggers, ropes and manacles on the wall. A fucking machine in one corner, and a Sybian vibrating machine in another. A sex swing. A table spread with a variety of dildos, gags, probes, blindfolds, clamps, cock rings—he recognized most of the items with a sinking sense of dread.

Apparently his mortification as a plaything hadn’t been all Nadeer had desired, and she was ready to up the ante. She and the Maybot pulled him to an upright frame that was on some sort of a pivot, and secured his manacles to it. Now she had access to him front and back, for whatever she had in mind. Phil was pretty sure it would be unpleasant and humiliating…and that he’d have no choice but to perform regardless of his feelings.

“Now it’s time to have some real fun,” she taunted him. She ran her hands over his body then rubbed herself up against him suggestively. She glanced at her assistant. “Time for another shot of go-juice,” she commanded. While the Maybot did her bidding, Nadeer selected a steel butt plug, and a bottle of lubricant. She ran the plug around Phil’s cock, then in a straight line up his body to his mouth, and held it up for him to see it. Then she traced it down across his shoulders and back, circled the curve of his ass a couple of times. A shiver ran through Phil’s body, and she took that as encouragement; she sprayed some lube onto the plug and onto his ass, and then pushed it into him firmly. He shuddered and let out a moan, and she laughed.

“That’s just the first treat I have for you this time, loverboy,” she told him as her injection did its work and his cock started to rise. She stripped off her own clothing again, handing it to the Maybot as she did before, and then turned back to the table of instruments. She picked up a pair of nipple clamps with steel bearings attached to them, weighed them in her hand before going to Phil and attaching them to him, then joining them with a chain that fell to his navel. He shut his eyes and quivered but remained silent until he felt another cold steel item against him.

A cock ring. And it had a handy little knob on it to stimulate the woman’s clitoris. His eyes snapped open and he watched as Nadeer slid the tool onto him, and tightened it just in front of his balls.

“I want to make sure we prolong this session,” she told him as she turned back to him and rubbed up against him. Then she lay back in the sex swing and let the Maybot bring her forward and impale her on Phil’s cock. “Fuck, you feel good,” she told him. “So big and hot and hard. You fill me like no other man does. Now show me you know how to use all that meat on me!”

She pulled on the chain connecting his nipple clamps, and he yelped behind the gag filling his mouth, and started pushing into her. As he did, the butt plug began to vibrate, adding to the pressure building in him. Then the ring around his cock weighed in on the subject, and he knew he wasn’t going to get away easily this time.

Nadeer looked at the Maybot and said, “remove that gag and put on the dildo one.” It undid the tape and removed the now-sodden underwear, and before Phil could do much more than gasp and lick his dry lips, it had shoved a double-sided dildo into his mouth, fastening it tightly. He could see the 8 inches of black latex sticking out from the front surface, and his heart sank. He was pretty sure he knew what was going to happen next.

Nadeer nodded to the Maybot. “Flip us over. Then sit on his face,” she said, even as she continued to grind against Phil’s cock. She looked at him, her slave in every way, and nodded. “Go ahead. Fuck her pussy with your mouth. Give her a thrill, Coulson.” She tugged on his nipple clamp chain at about the same time as the butt plug pulsed again, and he groaned and shoved the dildo into the Maybot’s moist folds.

“Isn’t this every man’s dream?” Nadeer laughed “Two women at once, both hot and willing and wanting you—and you unable to do anything except obey.” She reached down beside her and picked up a leather riding whip and abruptly struck Phil across the thighs with it. He gave a sharp moan despite the gag and his pupils widened, and she laughed again and repeated the gesture. Meanwhile, the Maybot had slid forward and wrapped her legs around his head, grinding her folds into the dildo on his face. Phil was helpless to do anything except obey his treacherous body.

The Maybot was the first to climax, silently but damply—as soon as she was finished, she hopped off his face and went behind him to adjust the butt plug and release the cock ring. All the pressure building up in him finally convulsed and he shot his load into Nadeer just as she started laughing through her own orgasm.

“That’s it, you big SHIELD stud,” she said mockingly. “Give me every drop. Fill me, then I’ll rub the rest of it all over me, and I’ll get our friend her to lap it off me while I blow you. You’ll like that, won’t you?” She asked as she squeezed against his cock again.

Phil had no idea how long this all went on, but he knew that he came three times, each time into Nadeer’s greedy, hot pussy. He was exhausted, dehydrated and in desperate need of water and a rest when she finally jumped up, slapped the whip across his back a few times, then grabbed her clothes and left the room.

The Maybot cleaned him up, removed the hateful gag and moved him to a chair, where she tied him securely with rope, removing the shackles and gadgets that he’d been forced into. She brought him Gatorade and a straw, and held the bottle for him while he drained it desperately. Next she brought a bedpan, and shoved his exhausted member into it, and despite his shame and grief and mounting anger, he did what was expected of him. Then she left, as silently as she had been throughout the entire ordeal. 

Phil knew he had to get out of this on his own—that his team had no idea where he was, or why he was missing. His head whirling with the effects of the drugs plus his own emotional overload, he tried to think clearly and make some sort of a plan. But all too soon exhaustion claimed him and he allowed the curtains of sleep to cover him. 


	8. The hunt for SHIELD's Director

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melinda rallies the team to prepare to find Phil. And she honestly admits her feelings to herself.

Back at the Playground, Melinda May assembled the core team quickly.

“Coulson has been kidnapped,” she said flatly. “By a…a being with my face.” She held her hand up to quiet the murmuring. “I saw them on the security feed at the bar,” she said. “The fake May slipped him something, obviously, because we all know Coulson can handle his liquor, and after two scotches he was all over her, and then he was just all falling over.” She skewered each of her colleagues with her eyes, cold and calm, but they could tell by her stance she was furious at the same time as she wracked with fear for Phil and trying to think three steps ahead like he would. “We need a plan, guys. The fake cut out his tracker, so we don’t have that.” She hesitated for a moment.

“I have no proof of this, but I have a gut feeling that this isn’t an electronic mask like Agent 33 wore,” she added. “I have a feeling we are dealing with a Life Model Decoy.”

Fitzsimmons exchanged glances, and Fitz blanched. “Radcliffe?” he questioned? “We haven’t been able to locate him since the whole AIDA fiasco.”

May nodded. “Would he take Phil, though? He didn’t seem to hold Coulson responsible for shutting him down.” She was quiet for a moment. “Okay, guys. Ideas? We need to find him.”

Daisy said slowly, “Fitz. Jemma. Is there some way to track the alien DNA in Coulson’s blood? In my blood?” The scientists turned to look at her. “The way it affected him, with the hypergraphia and the homing beacon to the Kree city…” she hesitated. “Maybe, we could track him?”

Melinda could swear that Fitz and Simmons were telepathically linked, the way they worked. They stared at each other for a minute, then Jemma said slowly, “It’s possible. Daisy, can we borrow a little of your blood to run some tests?”

Fitz weighed in. “I’ll get started calibrating a trace program to target the markers.” He glanced at Daisy. “Your blood is a little different from his, because of the later dosage, but maybe we can adjust by testing against Coulson’s toothbrush, his hairbrush,” He mused in silence for a few minutes then said to May, “Could you get those things and join us in the lab, please?

Melinda nodded. “The rest of you, gear up for an emergency extraction,” she said. “Piper, you assist Simmons in prepping the medical go-bags. Davis, ready the _Zephyr_ and Quinjet 216 _.”_ Dismissing them, she strode briskly out of the ready room and towards their living quarters.

Letting herself into Phil’s quarters, she stood immobile for a moment. She breathed in deeply, and caught the scents of leather, his bathing supplies, his shaving kit—all the subtle yet distinctive (to her) scents that made her know he was in the room, no matter how quietly he tried to sneak up on her.

They had to find him, and bring him home safely. He was their North star, their leader; but to Melinda, he was so much more. They’d been friends since the Academy, been through so many missions together, shared many laughs and more than a few tears together.

“And I love him,” she spoke the words out loud to his room.

They’d always been close, but since the incident with first the alien city and then Phil’s trip to Maveth, they’d grown so much more affectionate with each other, slipping little jokes and innuendos into their conversations, touching each other, leaving lingering glances on each other. Then, when she thought he and Fitz had been lost by the workings of mad scientists using the Darkhold, she admitted to herself just how much she cared—that she loved him as more than a friend. When she saw him fighting desperately to emerge from the dark matter holding him, and his eyes locked on hers, he gave an extra heave and broke free, stumbling through the Gateway and falling into her arms, sliding to the floor holding onto her legs.

He might have been the one to fall to the ground, but Melinda finally admitted to herself that she had fallen for Phil Coulson and his beautiful blue eyes, his love of puns, his actor-handsome face, fit body, dazzling smile and his huge heart long before this. She thought that maybe, he cared about her the same way, but she had no idea how to proceed. And now?

Now she might not get the chance.

“Hang on, Phil,” she whispered as she had done when he was fighting to come through the Gateway. “Hang on, love. We’re coming for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one, but I'll post another on my lunchbreak in a few hours.


	9. Making a break for it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil felt his heart plummet into his stomach. He stared at the figure impersonating his best friend. “Please,” he said. “Please let me go. This is not going to give her what she wants.”

Phil had no idea how long he’d been held by Nadeer. The windows, if there were any, were covered with blackout curtains. He heard no sounds from outside to indicate whether he was in a city or a rural location, no traffic, nothing. He’d been left alone for at least a few hours, bound in the chair where the Maybot had put him after the last sex and torment session, and he’d struggled to free himself. He didn’t have the skill that Melinda had to dislocate his thumb to get out of manacles or rope, but normally he could pick his way free of rope. His shoulders ached from his pulling and struggles, but he persisted, even though his wrists were chafed from his efforts.

 _Come on, Phil,_ he thought to himself. _Work the problem_. He flexed his legs against the chair legs, and then it came to him. He remembered Melinda telling him she had gotten free from a chair that Sunil Bakshi had tied her to by knocking it over so that it broke one of its arms. She had gotten her own arm loose, grabbed a knife and freed her other arm and ankles, and attacked.

Well, he was fresh out of knives, but breaking the chair was worth a try. And he weighed much more than the tiny slip of a powerhouse who was his friend. He’d have to be quick, and hope that Nadeer and the Maybot were nowhere near.

Taking a deep breath, Phil rocked the chair a little, tentatively, to see what it might take to move it. There were two doors into this room—which one should he make for? Nadeer had left through the one on the right, so perhaps the one to the left was a safer choice for him. He coiled his muscles, then flung his weight to the right, toppling the chair and yes, breaking its arm. He felt a sharp pain in his shoulder from striking the floor, but he dismissed that as he pulled himself free of the rope on his right arm. The chair leg had come loose as well and he pulled his ankle free, then untangled his left arm and leg and made for the door.

He hadn’t expected to stagger and nearly fall, weakened by lack of food and insufficient water and the various drugs in his system. He caught himself and struggled toward the door, yanked on it and it opened. Phil peered out into what was obviously a hallway, stepped out cautiously. Some sort of institution, perhaps, with at least half a dozen doorways down the hall each way from where he stood. There had to be a stairwell at each end, or an exit of some sort. He started stealthily moving along the hall, using the wall to support himself when he felt dizzy or weak. He thought to himself, almost to the end… _there has to be an exit…I have to get out of here_. He could feel anxiety reaching for him, but he pushed it away with a flash of anger at what had been done to him. Reaching the end of the hallway, he depressed the handle on a steel door, and opened it quietly—

And the Maybot was standing there.

Phil felt his heart plummet into his stomach. He stared at the figure impersonating his best friend. “Please,” he said. “Please let me go. This is not going to give her what she wants.”

The Maybot said, “I can’t. I have to return you to your cell.” It looked rueful. “You know she’ll punish you,” it added. “I can’t prevent that.”

Phil clenched his jaw, marshalling his strength, then lashed out at the Maybot, swinging his right fist towards its face, and immediately following with a roundhouse kick, both of which the Maybot blocked easily. He spun and shifted his weight and prepared to strike out at the LMD again, and then his head swam and he staggered and nearly fell.

He closed his eyes to the inevitable pounce of the Maybot, who threw him against the wall, forcing his arms behind his back, and he felt the click of cold steel on his wrists. She pushed him back through the door and back up the hall, but this time into a different room.

The scent of Poison hit him like a wave when he stumbled into the room. The senator was standing there, and she was not pleased.

“That was stupid of you,” she spat. “And now you’re going to get what you deserve.” She grabbed him by the hair and hauled him to an X-shaped frame, which the Maybot quickly bound him to, facing the frame. There was a moment’s silence, during which Phil braced for what might be coming.

The sting of the whip across his back startled him more than it hurt, but he didn’t make a sound. Nadeer walked up to him, and ran the leather handle of the whip down his chest, tapping his cock several times before sliding it up and hitting it across his face, hard. He flinched and felt the blood well up inside his mouth, but he didn’t make a sound.

“You WILL obey,” she said. “And you will count out each stripe I give you…or I’ll let your friend here do the beating. And she’s way stronger than I am!”

Gritting his teeth, Phil willed himself to bear up and get through what was coming, like he had any other dangerous situation. Hopefully his team were tracking him down—his thoughts were interrupted by the slash of the whip on his buttocks this time, followed by across one shoulder, then the other. His silence made Nadeer angrier, but the Maybot suddenly said, “Senator, you don’t want to damage him too much, not if you plan another breeding session.”

Nadeer paused in mid-swing, considering. “You’re right,” she said. “We have time for one more session before it’s phase 3 time.”

Phil didn’t move, not even when the Maybot came to him and released his manacles. It dragged him back to the bondage frame and lashed him down to it, putting the dreaded collar back on his neck. He didn’t even flinch at the injection into his arm, just shut his eyes and resigned himself to what was coming next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter this afternoon after shift is finished. What will happen next?


	10. The search party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team is on the hunt; will they find Coulson in time?

“Okay, I’ve got it figured, I think,” Fitz said to the rest of the team as they stood in the control area of the flight deck. “Coulson’s blood makeup is just enough different that his body temperature is lower than the average person’s. His normal temperature is 35.2, almost two full degrees Celsius lower than normal—if we fly the Quinjets on search patterns looking for that heat signature once we have a general area isolated, we should be able to locate him.” He looked at Melinda. “Any more theories on who has taken him?”

She nodded slowly. “I think it’s Senator Nadeer,” she said flatly. “She’s been obsessed with Phil, convinced he is responsible for the fall of the watchdogs, and the outing of her brother. She kind of came on to him in the anteroom at the InHuman hearing, when he and Yoyo were handcuffed after being caught in her office.” She paused for a moment. “Nothing has been seen of her brother since she flew him out to the home place, the “cottage” on the lake, if you can call it that, and we have reason to believe she has had him killed.”

Daisy said, “Okay, we need to get on this, like now. Where would she hold Coulson if she had him?”

Turning back to her iPad, Melinda said, “The Nadeer family have a number of companies and holdings in real estate.” She flipped through screens and said, “Sending you the list of holdings now. We need to split up into at least four teams. Fitz,” she turned to the young Scotsman, “Can you get in touch with Mike and see if he’ll come in from the Triskelion to help?”

“Absolutely,” Fitz replied. “And he will—Coulson is important to him, too.” He turned away and headed back to the lab to contact the special agent also known as Deathlok.

Melinda looked up from her screen and surveyed the rest of the team.

“Piper, Daisy, you’re with me on _Zephyr_ and we’ll deploy to _SHIELD 216_ once we find the location. Davis, you and YoYo and Mac take 323. Chan, you bring Fitz and Simmons on 420; Andrews, you, Ramirez and Clark bring 516. Let’s move it, people. Wheels up in 10.” She dismissed the team and turned to prepare the _Zephy_ r for their mission.

Once in the air, the jets all cloaked and turned to their respective chart headings. Melinda piloted the mighty _Zephyr_ high enough into the atmosphere that its engines would be no more noticeable than any other jet, and yet low enough that its scanners could look for Coulson’s body temperature. A small scared voice in her mind asked what if they were too late—if he was already dead, or taken out of the country, or worse—but she pushed that back. “Focus on getting to him and getting him back,” she told herself.

It was only a couple of hours when Daisy came onto the flight deck with her tablet. “We may have something,” she said. “The senator’s family own a now-abandoned factory outside of Pittsburgh, and I sent Davis in. His scanners are reporting someone in the building with a noticeably lower body temperature. We should bring _Zephyr 1_ and have a closer look.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one as i am working a double. More by the weekend.


	11. May to the rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The side door opened and closed quickly, and quiet footsteps strode across to him. He opened his eyes, and his stare fell on the Maybot. Was she here to hasten his departure?

Phil slowly came back to consciousness and opened his eyes. After thrashing him with the whip, Nadeer had taken up a new game—violating him anally with a Kree-blue dildo while the Maybot collected his ejaculate, then forcing him to perform oral sex on both of them. At some point, overwhelmed with exhaustion and pain, he lost consciousness. How long after that they kept tormenting him, he had no idea. His head was throbbing and so, it seemed, was pretty much everything else on him. He took a deep breath through his nose and tried to focus his eyes.

The room he was in was empty of his tormentors, but his view had changed. An ache in his shoulders told him that once again his arms were bound tightly behind his back, and more ropes were wrapped around his torso and legs. The gag was back, also fastened even more severely than before, and he could feel something harsh and unyielding around his neck.

Then he realized to his terror that he was standing on a small bench, several feet off the ground, and there was a noose around his neck, running up through a pulley system and to the door through which he had attempted to escape.

Senator Nadeer strode in through the second door, and gazed up at him, obviously pleased with her handiwork. “Well, Coulson, this is where we say goodbye to each other,” she remarked casually. “I have plenty of your semen frozen now, and there’s no need to keep you here, where you will only attempt to get away again.” She reached up and tugged on his cock, but even as limp and sore as it was, Phil didn’t dare flinch.

“I enjoyed having you, but I enjoy my freedom and my plans more. So if and when your “ _family_ ” come to rescue you, they’ll actually be your executioners,” she gloated, adding, “Unless, of course, your legs give up first, or you decide to off yourself intentionally. They say, though, that men get a hard-on when they’re hung, so you’ll have one more of those to look forward to!” She gazed up at him for another moment or two, and he stared back at her, expressionless, refusing to show her any fear regardless of how hard his heart was hammering in his chest. She took out her phone and took a few pictures of him before turning and striding out the door.

He was alone. So very tired, and so very afraid. Most of all he was grieving that he would never see his family, his team again, never get to tell Melinda what had been in his heart all this time.

_Maybe it’s time_ , he thought to himself. _I have cheated death so many times that maybe it’s come at last to collect_. Fighting down the fear, he brought Melinda’s face into his mind’s eye—the real Melinda, the one who laughed with him, drank scotch with him, teased and flirted with him, and had his back always. Would she ever find him? Would she grieve? Would the whole team grieve? Of course they would, and then they would move on with their lives.

Who would lead them? Mack was a capable leader, Daisy too, though she felt she was too young to be Director yet, content to be second to Mack when he had taken on the interim role. Melinda refused to be Director, though she was content to be his deputy. “My job is to have your back, always,” she told him more than once.

Aside from his death-by-Loki and recovery via TAHITI, Phil had always been strong and physically fit, and under normal conditions he could stand for hours. But now he was dehydrated, weakened by drugs, injured and exhausted, and he could feel his muscles trembling already. He closed his eyes against the bitter tingling of tears forming. It would be over soon.

The side door opened and closed quickly, and quiet footsteps strode across to him. He opened his eyes, and his stare fell on the Maybot. Was she here to hasten his departure? He fought down his fear and glared at her, willing himself to show courage and anger and to go out with strength.

“We don’t have much time,” it whispered. “Senator Nadeer is getting ready to leave, but she sent me back to finish you. And I… I just can’t.” It studied the pulleys and rope that made up the gallows he was harnessed to, and then it said, “Can you trust me? Just once? Reach into your heart and know that I truly do carry the real May’s memories, her thoughts, her desires…her love for you, her need to keep you safe, and close.”

He didn’t dare move, for fear of losing his balance, but he blinked twice at the LMD. A tiny frisson of hope stirred in his chest. _Her_ love _for him_?

The Maybot pulled a switchblade out of its pocket, and cut the ropes from around Phil’s ankles knees and thighs. It looked up at him and said, “I’m going to throw this and cut the rope at the door, and I will catch you when you fall. You need to try to not panic or thrash around, and to trust me, somehow. I promise on May’s love for you that I will not betray you again.”

Phil stared back at the Maybot, his beautiful blue eyes filled with disbelief and fear, but with a flicker too of hope. The warm brown eyes looking back at him—so much like May’s eyes!—moved something in his heart. Maybe. Just maybe. It touched his leg gently, comfortingly, then turned faster than real-May ever could, flinging the knife with deadly accuracy at the rope fastened to the door. The blade hit the complex web of knotwork, parting all the strands, and as the tension came off his neck, Phil felt himself collapse.

And the Maybot caught him effortlessly, set him down on the bench, cut the remaining ropes from his body, the noose from his neck and the gag from his mouth. He gasped air into his lungs, forcing his trembling to stop, and took the Maybot’s hands in his.

“Thank. You.” He whispered hoarsely, just as they heard a skirmish outside. Gunfire. Shouting. Feet running. He looked down at himself and at the Maybot. “I…don’t have much left in me to fight with,” he said. “Is there anything I can put on for clothing? Footwear?”

The Maybot nodded. “Come this way.” It tugged his hands and he stumbled after it—her?—he didn’t know anymore—through the side door to the room where he had first been imprisoned. His jeans and shirt were in tatters, his shoes gone, but his briefs were more or less intact. They would have to do. As he awkwardly drew them on and up his body, he heard an explosion, shouts and the sound of pounding feet drew closer, and the Maybot took up a protective stance in front of Phil, much as Melinda would have done.

\----------------

**The Cavalry arrives**

Melinda read the scene on the ground quickly. A dozen or so guards surrounding Senator Nadeer as she hastened towards a helicopter that was waiting not far from the building. She spoke in her comms to Mike Peterson. “Slow her down, Mike, while I get this bird on the ground.”

“You got it Agent May,” came the calm and cheerful voice of Deathlok, and as Melinda landed the _Zephyr_ she saw the flash of missile fire and the helicopter explode. The mighty plane was scarcely on the ground before she had the ramp down and was racing off it, carrying a pistol in each hand. As she tore past Daisy and Piper, the two agents saw the look on her face—it was icy and deadly, and they almost— _almost_ —felt sorry for the deluded senator.

Daisy turned to Piper, “Go help the others find Coulson. I’ll help May,” she said before she ran down the ramp after her SO.

Melinda shot four of Nadeer’s goons as she ran, kicking and punching her way through the remaining guards come face to face with the woman who she just knew had taken Phil, and who was trying to pull off the indignant and innocent look.

“Agent May? What do you want? Why in hell did your agent shoot my helicopter?” Nadeer demanded.

“Get on the ground NOW, senator, or I may forget my training and put two in you.” May gritted through clenched teeth.

“I’ll do no such thing! I don’t know why you’re harassing me,” the senator countered. To give her credit, she was trying to brazen it out.

“You know exactly why we’re here. You’ve got our Director, and we are taking him home with us.”

A shadow passed over Nadeer’s face, then she couldn’t help herself; she laughed, somewhat hysterically. “You can take him,” she chortled. “I got what I want from him, and you’ll…have his corpse. He won’t be keeping you warm at night!” She turned to make her way through her remaining guards and Melinda lost it.

She leapt into the air, taking out three more of the guards and kicking Nadeer in the back as she landed. The senator staggered and fell, and Melinda punched her half a dozen times in the face before Daisy cried out, “Stop! Go find Coulson. I’ll watch her. May, go!”

Melinda pulled herself together, turned on her heel and raced towards the building’s entryway, her heart in her throat.

Nadeer was cringing on the ground, moaning about being in pain, and Daisy stepped towards her to help her to her feet and take her into custody. As she bent down, she saw the flash of steel from a gun barrel, and instinctively she quaked the woman, snapping her neck.

“Ooops,” she said. “That was for Coulson. My bad.”

\------------

The door burst open to the room Phil had been just in, for what he had thought would be his final moments…and in burst Mack, and Davis, Yoyo and Piper, guns drawn, eyes searching…

…and then the real Melinda charged through the doorway. Her face was bruised and bloody, and filled with a mixture of anger and fear. She spied her doppelganger—and then she saw the man she loved behind it, clad only in his briefs.

Everyone froze for a few seconds.

The Maybot put its hands behind its head and knelt down in front of him. “I surrender,” it said. “He’s safe now. Do what you must with me.”

Melinda ran to Phil and threw her arms around him protectively, pushing him away from her doppelganger, as Mack went to the Maybot and cuffed its hands. Weakened though Phil was, he had enough adrenalin coursing through his veins that he was able to fling his own arms around Melinda and crush her to him as she murmured his name and burrowed her face into his bare chest. Then his exhausted legs finally gave out and they landed in a heap on the floor, clinging to each other desperately.

“We found you,” Melinda said breathlessly. “You’re going to be okay, Phil. We’re here. I’m here. You’re safe now, love.”

Jemma arrived with Fitz right behind her carrying the team’s medical bag, and they went straight to their boss. Jemma wrapped him in a blanket, assessing his vitals while he still clung to Melinda. He lifted his head from her shoulder, scanning the faces of his team, missing one…

…at which point Daisy stepped through the door, dusting her hands off. She looked at Mack and Yoyo and said, “Nadeer has been stopped. Mike blew up her helicopter and prevented the SUVs from leaving. May took care of the senator. Her surviving men surrendered after a bit more of a fight—” then she saw Phil, the two apparent Melindas, and she blinked and shook her head. “Oh!” she uttered.

Without another word, she ran to Phil and wrapped her arms around him and real-Melinda, hugging them both tightly.

Now feeling like he might possibly be safe, Phil felt tears stinging in his eyes again, and he began shaking uncontrollably as the last of the adrenalin drained from him. Despite having his team around him, he was starting to hyperventilate and pitch headlong into a panic attack. Melinda and Daisy held him tightly, wordlessly, as Jemma briskly took charge and began assessing him and bossing her colleagues.

“Daisy, he’s going to be okay now, so please, give him space for a bit and let us tend him. Melinda, you stay put, hold his hands and just talk gently to him. Coulson…you’re safe now,” she murmured, and he looked up at her, tears on his face, in obvious distress. Her heart swelled for him, but she kept her voice calm, professional and gentle. “We’re going to get you out of here and back to the base. Look at me, now. Listen to me.” Without removing her gaze from her boss’s face, she said quickly to Fitz, who was rummaging in the medical bag, “Oxygen first, then set up an IV line with lactated Ringer’s. I don’t dare give him anything else until we assess further.” She snapped a tourniquet into place on Phil’s arm, while Fitz set up the oxygen mask on Phil and prepped for the IV line. Jemma was quick to deftly draw several vials of blood from him and handing them to Fitz to run through the analyzer.

Although she was trying to keep out of her teammates’ way so they could work on their leader, Melinda was running her hands soothingly over Phil’s arms, touching his face, wrapping the blanket more closely around him, murmuring to him. Daisy and Jemma could both hear her words.

“Phil, I’m so sorry, my darling. I thought we had lost you. I should have been there. I should have known. But you’re safe now. We’re all here and we all love you so much. I love you with everything I have. You are my heart. You’re my life. We will make it better. And I’m not going to let you out of my sight. My love, my darling, can you forgive me for failing you?” She moved her hands to hold his while Fitz put the oxygen mask over their leader’s face, then she held him more tightly. “It’s going to be okay, love. You’re safe now. We love you.”

As the cool oxygen flooded into Phil, he felt a surge of relief mixed with other emotions. But most of all, he heard the words that Melinda was saying.

_My darling._

_My love._

_I love you with everything I have._

He shrugged his trembling arms out from under the blanket and wrapped them around Melinda again. He focused his eyes on hers, and whispered, “Melinda. You didn’t fail me. You’re here. I’m okay now. I love you. I have always loved you. Please…take me home.”

She gazed at his bruised, beloved face, into his beautiful eyes, saw the fear and pain and yes, the love in them, and did the only thing she could think to do to help reassure and comfort him. She gently moved the oxygen mask up and touched his lips softly, tenderly with her own, twice, before replacing the mask. “That’s a promise,” she said softly. “Now you must do as Jemma says, and we’ll get you looked after. I will be right here, my love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're not done yet! Phil has a ways to go to recover to the man the team follows--but he has help now.


	12. The family is reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil has his family around him. It's time to go home.

While this tender exchange was going on, Jemma was reading the analysis of Phil’s blood. She and Fitz exchanged glances, and he handed her the second medical bag, this one holding an assortment of medications. Jemma turned and knelt down beside Phil.

  
“I have to ask you some hard questions, sir, and maybe we should have a little privacy while we talk,” she said gently.

Phil shook his head, drawing in a deep breath and releasing one of Melinda’s hands to wipe the tears from his eyes. “You’re my family, all of you,” he said. “Nadeer kidnapped me to force me to have sex with her. She drugged me with something like Rohypnol that took away my will and forced me to obey her and with something else that caused me to have nearly endless erections—no matter how much I didn’t want to touch her, she screwed me and forced me to screw her… I don’t know how many times.”

He paused and swallowed. “And she forced me to ejaculate I also don’t know how many times to collect my semen to freeze. She had this mad idea that my impregnating her would give her InHuman powers, and give her _spawn_ , if she had one, the same powers. And that with my semen she could impregnate others, rebuild HYDRA…”

Phil looked at Melinda, who tightened her grip on his hands, raising them to her mouth to kiss them gently. “She was getting ready to leave here and was going to kill me. She set up a booby trap to take me out while she got away. The May LMD saved me.” His voice wobbled and he shut his eyes against the new wash of despair and anxiety he could feel coming.

Feeling his body tense, Melinda held Phil closer and stroked his hair, “It’s okay, Phil. Let it out. You’re safe now, and you’re going to be okay.” He looked up at her and gave her a wan smile, and she dropped a kiss on his forehead. 

Jemma fitted a blood pressure cuff around his arm and put the stethoscope under it. She looked at the readout from the cuff, and nodded to Fitz.

“Sir…Phil,” she corrected herself. “Deep breaths, now. Like May taught you. Keep breathing slowly and deeply. I’m going to give you two injections, so we can transport you to the _Zephyr_ and back to the base.” She paused, looking back and forth between May and Coulson. “The first shot is a sedative to help reduce the panic and shock you’re feeling, and lower your blood pressure, which is way above your normal rate. The second one will counterbalance the date-rape drugs in your system, to start to flush them out.”

At Phil’s nod of understanding, she continued, “When we get you back to the base, I’ll conduct a full exam and we’ll treat for STDs, for any injuries you have, and you will be on bed rest for a few days. And I mean it, Phil.” She tried to look sternly at him, but then she smiled reassuringly and patted his hand. “We will get you through this with whatever you need, but you must rest and let Mack and Daisy look after SHIELD for a little. We need you back in command but not until you’re physically healthy.” The unspoken phrase hung in the air, and they all knew what was implied.

_Mentally, his recovery might take much longer._

Davis and Piper returned to the room with one of the stretchers from the medical ward, followed by Mike Peterson, who carefully lifted Phil onto it. Melinda held his hand in both of hers and walked as close to him as she could while Mike pushed the stretcher out of the building where Phil’s spirit had nearly been broken and his life almost stolen.

Daisy and Yoyo followed behind the medical entourage with the handcuffed LMD of May between them. “What will happen to me?” She asked.

The two agents exchanged a glance. Daisy said slowly, “You were responsible for drugging and kidnapping Coulson and delivering him to that monster Nadeer. Yet you saved his life just now. That will be taken into consideration…”

“I’m not real,” the LMD said. “I’m all phantom limbs, but my feelings, especially where Coulson is concerned, are from the real Melinda. I know how much she loves him. So I do, too. Her love finally overrode my programming so I was able to save him. But now I want…I want for you to terminate me.”

Daisy stopped in her tracks. “SHIELD doesn’t kill people,” she said slowly.

“I’m not a real person, though,” the LMD said. “It wouldn’t be killing me. It would be doing me a kindness.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How will Coulson recover from the horrors he experienced with Nadeer and the Maybot? And will this affect his relationship with Melinda?


	13. Doctoring the Director

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team welcome Coulson back to the Zephyr. Dr. Simmons treats his injuries and Melinda treats his spirit. Fluffy relief after the heavy lifting of the past few chapters.

The team were quick to pile into _Zephyr 1_ while the cleanup crew remained behind with the Quinjet to finish dealing with the bodies of Nadeer and her flunkies, and transport the surviving guards and the Maybot to the Freezer. Daisy and Mack had decided that it would be too distressing for Phil to know that the Maybot was on board the plane too, because it was still responsible for kidnapping him and assisting in his torture before saving his life, and that was too much for him to have to cope with right now.

Mike wheeled Phil into the medical ward and transferred him carefully to a proper bed where Jemma had access to everything she would need to examine and treat their leader. At this time, however, she quietly drew a privacy curtain around the bed and looked at her teammates.

“For now, everyone leaves except May,” she said firmly. “She’s his medical support and next of kin and I don’t think I can get them to let go of each other anyway.” A ghost of a smile crossed her face as she looked at Phil and Melinda, who were pretty much oblivious to the rest of the team. The medications had kicked in and Phil was calmer, his blood pressure dropping, but Jemma elected to keep him on oxygen for the time being, simply swapping out the mask for nasal cannula instead.

Daisy nodded and said gently, “You’re in the best of hands, DC. Please listen to Jemma and May. We’ll be here if you need anything.” She said to Jemma, “What about clothing? I can send one of the guys to bring fresh…?”

Jemma nodded. “Clean underwear, a t-shirt, socks, sweat pants, toiletries and such, but for now, he’s going into a johnny shirt once I’m done treating him.He’s staying here tonight and possibly longer.”

Fitz, Mack, and Yoyo all came to reassure Phil before they left. Fitz was first, touching his boss on the shoulder gently. “We’re glad you’re back, sir. Now you listen to Jemma and May, and get well quickly.”

Mack, who towered over Phil even when they stood side by side, crouched down to look the director in the eyes. “You heard Turbo, sir,” he said quietly. “I’ll be beating you at backgammon before you even know it.” Phil mustered a wan smile, looking at the gentle giant who was his friend as well as his teammate, and nodded quietly. Mack stepped back and Yoyo came up, her dark eyes brimming with kindness. “Boss. You got this. And we have your back. You heal up, and anything you need, we’re all here for you.

Lastly, Daisy came to the side of the bed, and gazed at her mentor, her friend, the person who was most like a parent to her. “AC…” she struggled with a lump in her throat suddenly, and blinked her eyes to hold back the tears. Then she flung her arms around Phil and brushed her lips across his cheek, like a daughter would to her father. She cleared her throat again, and said more firmly, “AC. Don’t you give Simmons or May any back chat, or I’ll have to get tough on you.”

At that, Phil genuinely smiled and even chuckled a little. He hugged her in return and said, “you keep an eye on Lola, please, and when I feel better we’ll go get pizza for the whole team…and maybe I’ll let you fly her.” Daisy’s smile lit up the room and she bounced out the door after her team mates. And everyone felt a little better.

With the rest of the team gone, Jemma turned her full attention to her boss. “Can you sit up please, sir?” She asked gently. He nodded, and the two women helped him upright. Jemma said to May, “If you can just support him while I examine him, we’ll get through this as quickly as we can.” Melinda nodded. “Of course.” She gave off the appearance of complete calm, holding Phil’s hands in hers, stroking his hair gently, her eyes never leaving his beautiful, beloved face.

But Jemma knew all too well what the past few days had cost her in strength, and how she was holding it all together by sheer willpower. Having been through trauma with Fitz, she knew the mixture of fear, anger, love, relief that was coursing through Melinda’s mind and body. Part of her was fascinated by the way May and Phil were declaring their love for each other at long last—and without hiding it from the rest of the team. Their family.

Turning on her headset microphone, Jemma began recording Phil’s vitals as she attached heart and oxygen monitors to him and flipped on the screens. His back, shoulders and buttocks were covered in lash marks, with dried blood, broken skin and bruising. She cleaned each cut carefully, applying the special salve that she and Fitz had created to help expedite healing for SHIELD members. “It looks worse than it is,” she murmured to her patient and his partner, “and I know it’s uncomfortable to lay on, but it will be better in a few days. You’ll need to sleep on your side or even your tummy as much as possible,” she added. Phil looked up at her and nodded wordlessly as she helped him to his feet.

“I’m really sorry about this next part,” Jemma told him apologetically. “If you’d prefer to wait until we get back to the Playground, I can get a male doctor in…”

He caught her wrist and shook his head. “I trust you,” he said simply. “I don’t want anyone else involved in this. Not yet.” He looked to Melinda, who nodded her agreement and kissed the top of his head. “We’ll keep this confidential,” she said. “Jemma will help you.”

Jemma nodded, and put on a fresh pair of medical gloves. Phil gripped the rail of the bed and closed his eyes as she began her examination of his private parts. There was significant bruising and swelling around his anus, and he let out a small grunt of pain when she carefully slid the micro video camera up inside him to check for tears inside him. She gave a sigh of relief as she watched her monitor, and as quickly as she could, she withdrew the camera and looked reassuringly at him and Melinda. “There are no signs of bleeding or internal damage,” she said briskly. “You’re bruised, as I’m sure you can tell, but we’ll give you something for the pain and swelling shortly.”

Now she turned to his penis and testicles, which were reddened and swollen looking too. Melinda turned Phil’s head to look into his eyes and murmured soft reassurances to him. He locked his gaze on her and she could feel him trembling again through his hands, so she tightened her grip on them and whispered over and over, “I’m here, my love. You’re going to be okay.” Quickly enough Jemma was done, and he felt cooling balm applied to his most tender areas before she straightened up and looked comfortingly at him.

“You did great, Phil. We’re done for now. There is no lasting damage to your physical being,” she said. “Obviously, you have abrasions and bruises everywhere from the bindings you were in, and you are going to be sore for a few days. But we can keep you comfortable while you heal.” She paused, then continued. “I am far more concerned about your mental and emotional state, Phil. You were held against your will, and abused, and sexually assaulted. And nearly killed.”

“But I’m okay now,” Phil said. “Couple days rest and I’ll be good as new. You know me, I’m—”

“Yes, we know you’re strong and resilient and all that, and have been through other horrors,” Jemma interrupted her leader’s attempt to brush off the past few days. She and Melinda weren’t having any of that. “You’re not a superhuman. You will need to talk to a professional beyond my skill set. There is a high likelihood of PTSD showing up once you have been home and healing for a few days. For the time being, I don’t want you alone _at all_ ,” she stressed the “all” firmly. “Fortunately, I don’t think that’s likely.”

Melinda nodded. “I’m taking leave for as long as you need, Phil,” she said softly. “Daisy and Mack can handle things, Yoyo can lead any missions, Fitz will quarterback and and I can advise, but my place is with you. We need to get you back on your feet.”

Jemma nodded, and picked up a syringe, drawing a clear liquid off into it, which she then injected through the port she had placed in Phil’s arm. “I’m going to keep you on Ringer’s for another 24 hours to rehydrate you,” she said, “and this will help you relax and also push the residual drugs out of your system. You can have whatever you want to eat and drink, just small meals, though.”

She picked up the clean clothes that Mack had brought down and handed through the curtains, and set them on the bed. “I know you want to shower, but I’d ask you to settle for a sponge bath for now, just until we get you stabilized and off the oxygen and tranquilizers. Tomorrow morning, probably. Now, I’ll give you two some privacy, and I’m going to ask the team to leave you alone until morning.” She looked at Melinda and smiled again. “And by alone I mean with your guardian angel right here.”

“We can bring in a second bed and put it right beside Phil’s if you’d like,” she added. “You also need to rest, May.”

Melinda smiled. “I will rest, I promise you, Jemma. But we don’t need a second bed at this point. If I need one, I’ll take one.” Phil smiled faintly at the twist on her usual response when someone asked her to carry a weapon, “If I need one, I’ll take one.”

Jemma nodded. “Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything,” she said. “Otherwise, I’ll be back in 3 hours to check on you. Do you want anything to eat now?”

Phil shook his head. “Just leave me some water,” he said softly. “And thank you, Jemma. For everything.” Melinda echoed his thanks, and Jemma smiled and left the ward.

There was silence for a moment as Phil and Melinda looked at each other. All of the worry, fear and pain of the past few days hung between them like a curtain of toxic mist. And then Phil whispered to her, “Melinda. Come here, please.”

Melinda needed no further urging, slipping onto the bed and into his arms. He buried his face in the silken locks of her hair, breathing in her scent of rosemary and mint shampoo, as she held him tightly.

“I thought I’d lost you forever,” she whispered. “And I hadn’t told you how I feel…or let you tell me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Phil pulled his head back from her neck and gazed into her eyes. “I knew. And I thought you were finally showing me…” he stopped, and his eyes filled with tears. “And then it wasn’t you. I am such a fool to have been fooled!” He dropped his eyes, and she could feel him trembling again.

“Phil.” Melinda’s voice was firm and tender. “I saw the security video footage. There was no way for you to know that wasn’t me. We had no idea Radcliffe had finessed the LMD build process so far. And he drew on the knowledge he had from mapping my brain when I was infected with the ghost toxin. So the LMD would know how I felt—feel—about you, and played to that crack in your armour.”

He looked back up at her, and the despair in his beautiful eyes hurt like an icy burn. “You already know they did things to me. Made me do things that I didn’t want to do. I couldn’t disobey, no matter what, and I’m ashamed of what happened. And I don’t know if I will be able to be the man you deserve. And I love you so much—”

Melinda kissed him gently, not wanting to hurt his cut and bruised lips, but offering him comfort and stopping the flow of words cascading from him. She lifted her mouth from his and whispered, “There is no rush. You will heal. I love you. We will take whatever time we need to get you well and strong and ready. Just knowing you love me back is a gift. Just having you here in my arms, safe…this is love. You are my heart.” She kissed him again, and this time he responded, tightening his hold on her, parting his lips to cover hers, deepening their kiss. Time suspended, and there was no more fear or shame or pain. There were simply two hearts, two minds finding their footing with each other.

When they came up for air, their gazes were tender on each other, their faces flushed. Melinda said softly, “I think we should get you that sponge bath, and then you should sleep, love. I will be right here beside you, I promise.”

Reluctantly, Phil let go of her hands so she could prepare the washbasin with his bath gel. She set up the supplies on a bed-table, and handed him a toothbrush and paste. “Brush your teeth, love, and spit into this basin,” she said briskly. “We have non-alcohol mouthwash in case you want to rinse further, and it won’t sting the inside of your mouth.”

Melinda’s hands were gentle but efficient on Phil’s aching body, deftly sponge-bathing him everywhere except for his back and butt where Jemma had already washed and treated his cut and bruised skin. Once he had cleaned his teeth, Phil sank back on the bed and closed his eyes, letting the touch of Melinda’s hands relax him a little. She dried him carefully, then applied a soothing moisturizer to his skin, massaging it gently in with her finger tips.

“Do you want to get dressed?” she asked him softly.

Phil shook his head. “The johnny shirt is fine for now,” he said. “Thank you, Mel.”

She cleared the items away and came back to sit down beside his bed. “Sleep now, Phil,” she murmured. “I’ll be right here.” His eyes sprang open and stared at her, and he reached for her.

“Please…” Phil whispered, “Please, Mel. I need you close. Please stay in the bed with me. Let me hold you?”

“Of course I will. Anything for you, love,” was her reply. She kicked off her boots, turned the lights down low, stripped off her jacket and climbed carefully back onto the bed. Phil lifted the blanket and draped it over them both, and reached eagerly for her. “That’s better,” he said softly. “I feel stronger with you beside me.”

She wrapped her arms around him, cradling his head on her breasts, kissing his hair and forehead gently. “You are strong, Phil. But now, you need to rest, love,” she murmured. “I’ll be here with you. It’s going to be all right.”

For the first time since he was taken, Phil thought that was possible. “I love you, Melinda May,” he whispered drowsily as sleep wrapped around him. Melinda smiled into his hair, and wasn’t far behind him in chasing Morpheus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phil's body is going to heal, but what about his spirit?   
> Thank you so much to all who have taken the time to comment and offer kudoes thus far. A few more bits to post, coming soon.


	14. A hand (or maybe two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff. Pure fluff. Because we (and Coulson and May) have earned some.

When Jemma returned three hours later, she found Phil and Melinda still wrapped around each other, sound asleep, limbs and sheets tangled together. As quietly as she could, she checked Phil’s pulse, oxygen, heart rate and temperature, then carefully put the blood pressure cuff around his arm. When she started to tighten it, he woke with a start, his blue eyes filled with terror. That startled Melinda awake and she leaped to her feet, ready to protect him.

“Shhhhh! It’s me, Phil,” Jemma whispered. “It’s Jemma. Melinda, stand down. Everything is all right now.” Melinda relaxed immediately and turned to Phil, putting her hands soothingly on his shoulders. As he became more awake and realized what was happening, he sank back onto the bed, rubbing his hand over his eyes.   


“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I thought I was back…there, again.” He hung his head, but Melinda cupped his chin with her hand and raised his face to hers.

“It’s all right, my darling,” she said. “You’re safe. We’re here with you, and you’re home with your family.” She kissed his cheeks, his forehead, and held him close to her. Jemma said, “I have to check his blood pressure, but I promise I will wake him next time if he’s sleeping, before I put the gauge on him.” She was quick to inflate the cuff, get her reading, and nod approvingly. “Much better. Almost normal, and other than the spike in your heart rate just now—which is entirely my fault—your vitals are good.” She paused and looked at the couple, who were unabashed at being wrapped up together in the sheets. “Do you need anything, Phil? Something to drink, more pain medication? Some supper?”

He shook his head. “I don’t even know whether it’s day or night,” he replied. “I’m not hungry, just tired.” He turned his eyes onto Jemma and gave a wan smile. “I have all I need right here beside me,” he said quietly.

Jemma checked her watch. “I am going to be back in to monitor you again in four hours, but I promise to either wake you up first, or not need to bother you at all,” she said gently. “If you need me, as I said before, just call. Or send Melinda to get me. I will be in our quarters.” Phil nodded, his eyes already closing as she quietly left the room. Melinda had been silent since Jemma had begun the blood pressure reading, and now she looked warmly at Phil. “You sure you don’t need anything?” she asked. “When did you last eat?”

“I have no idea,” he confessed. “They gave me water with electrolytes in it to drink and that’s about all. I don’t even know how long they had me.”

Melinda gazed at his beloved face, still pale and bruised but so handsome and strong. She knew better than anyone just how strong and well trained he was, and she hoped that their awakened acknowledgement of their feelings would aid in his recovery. “Let’s not talk about that now,” she whispered. “Just rest, if you’re not hungry. I’ll make you breakfast in the morning.”

He managed a little chuckle. “You’re going to cook? Haven’t I risked my life enough for one month?” He smiled, and the smile lit up his eyes, and made Melinda feel warm all over. She smiled back, and then they were kissing again.

Phil sought her lips like he was drowning and she was the only air who could save him. He curled his right hand into her hair, and with his other arm around her waist, drew her nearer to him. Melinda was cautious to respond—as eager as she was to take their relationship to the next level, she was also afraid to move too quickly. It might be weeks, or longer, before Phil felt up to being intimate with her, and she was fine with that. To sleep curled together, to taste his mouth on hers, feel his arms holding her close, that was a blessing after so many years of lonely nights for both of them.

“Melinda,” Phil whispered, and her name was like a prayer on his lips. She gazed at him, and his eyes were soft and full of love. If there were shadows ghosting through their depths, they didn’t dominate now. He wrapped his arms around her again, and kissed her again, deeply, exploring her mouth with his tongue, tenderly nibbling her full lips then soothing them with his tongue. “I love you,” he murmured. “It’s always been you. Always.”

“You are the only man I have ever truly loved,” she answered him. “Since forever, I think. I don’t know why we denied and why we wasted so much time. But we’re done with that.” She stitched a tender line of kisses from his cheekbone down his face and then down his neck to his throat, gentling when she reached the chafed area where the noose had nearly taken him. “Sleep now, my darling. I’m right here with you.”

The next time Phil awoke, his mind felt calm. He slowly opened his eyes, and knew he was in the medical bay. He felt a warm body against him, felt silky hair flung like a fan across him, and he glanced down to see his dreams come true. Melinda was snuggled up against him, her arm protectively over his chest, her head nestled against his arm. She stirred and open her eyes, gazed up at Phil, and smiled, which warmed him all the way through his body.

“Hi there, beautiful,” he whispered. He bent his head to kiss her inviting lips, and tighten his arms around her. Melinda smiled and snuggled into his arms even more closely, opening to his mouth tenderly exploring his. “How are you feeling?” she asked when they parted for air.

“Better,” he replied with a smile. “How could I not be, with such a good doctor as you caring for me?” He kissed her again, softly at first, and then more deeply, and she felt her heart beginning to race. _I must not get him excited_ , she thought to herself. _Just comforting, and gentle loving_. He lifted his head and looked into Melinda’s eyes, and she noted how dark and huge his pupils were, nearly obliterating the cobalt blue of his irises. He slid his hand down her neck, tracing the curve of her collarbone, and caressing her breast. At his touch, she gasped and twitched away from him, looking worriedly at him.

“Phil…” she whispered, “what are you doing? You’re still injured!”

“I’ve waited so many years for this moment,” he replied, kissing her deeply again. “I don’t want to wait any longer.” He gathered her to him, and she felt the hardness of him against her thigh.

“But Phil,” she murmured, quivering as he caressed her body gently, “you need to rest. And heal. And get your strength back. Not make out in a hospital bed.” She giggled as he tickled her side. “What if Jemma catches us?”

“What indeed?” he murmured. He brushed her hair back and gazed at her face, as if he was memorizing every single cell. “Melinda…” and the tone of his voice made her breath catch in her throat, and a thrill run down over her. “Mel, I need you so much.” He paused and sealed her mouth with his again, in a deep and searching kiss that left her breathless. When he raised his head, he continued, “we don’t have to make love yet, not if you don’t want to or don’t think we’re ready…But I love you, and we’ve waited so long…and I’m ready whenever you are.”

Melinda gazed at Phil’s face, taking a reading of his emotional state. He looked better, his eyes clear and his voice strong and confident even as he murmured to her. Still, she felt they should be cautious, and go slowly, no matter how much they both yearned to be together in every way.

“Phil…let’s just wait ‘til you’re out of the med bay, and we can go to your quarters,” she replied, stitching kisses all along his jaw, stroking his brow with loving hands. “Then we will have some privacy, and you’ll be better rested and healed…” she smiled enticingly at him, and Phil felt like he could fly the _Zephyr_ , defeat Hydra single handed, and bring world peace…just for the sake of her smile and her love. He nodded, and his lips found hers again, tasting her, nibbling her full lips, teasing her tongue with his, and feeling her respond to him eagerly and tenderly.

“Okay, sweetheart,” he murmured. “But I expect you to give me a hand in the shower. Or maybe two hands.” Her answering giggle and kiss was all the response he needed.

He would heal. He _was_ healing, in the arms of the woman he loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me a bit to update. We've a little further to go, hopefully in the next day or so. Pretty much smooth(ish) sailing from here on in.


	15. Pieces of me are pieces of you

If the previous few days had been a waking nightmare for Phil and his team, now he was in the most pleasant of waking dreams—when he was awake. Jemma allowed him to recuperate in his quarters after the first 24 hours of observation, when she removed his IV line and told May to make sure he took his medications on time and with food as directed. “I know you, Phil,” Jemma said firmly. “You take something ‘til you feel better then you stop. No stopping this time. May won’t let you!” And Phil, looking solemnly up at her with his most beguiling gaze, agreed to follow her directions or face Melinda’s wrath.

Mack and Daisy came in around midday each day, after clearing it with Melinda, to see Phil and update him on activities within SHIELD. He would listen to their reports, ask a few questions, thank them and tell them both that they were doing a fabulous job, then would wave them off so he could just be alone with Melinda, who was quietly and fiercely True to her word, she was making him simple meals, things she knew he liked, and he was eating appreciatively, just happy to have her sitting beside him at the table. She had also barely let him out of her sight, at least until she was sure he was awake and clear headed. The one time she left to go do Tai Chi while he was napping and got back after he woke, he was in the middle of an anxiety attack and she had summoned Jemma to help him calm down.

They had talked, the pair of them, about what had happened to him after the visit to the pub with the Maybot. He refused to speak to a psychologist about what had happened, at least not yet. Phil would shut his eyes, wrap Melinda in his arms, and tell her flatly about the miseries he had been through, and she would rub his shoulders and hold him close. Sometimes he cried. Sometimes he blamed himself for not catching on that he was being set up to be attacked, there in the pub. And Melinda would calm him down and tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that Nadeer had been twisted and clever, and had known through Radcliffe how May—the real May—felt about Phil. 

At times he swore and raged, paced and stormed, finally dropping spent onto the bed. Then she would curl up beside him, and soothe him, whispering to him and caressing him gently until he relaxed again. He would reach for her, kiss her softly at first and then with increasing desire and strength, but she didn’t feel he was ready to try to consummate their love. Not yet. His body was healed, and he wasn’t waking with night terrors any more, but Melinda wasn’t completely confident that it was time.

After a couple more days, he felt ready to exercise, even to spar with Melinda, but they’d wait until the base was quieted down to go book some time privately in one of the smaller gym spaces. When that went well, Phil decided to start integrating himself more into the base routine. When he and Melinda turned up hand in hand at dinner together to eat with the rest of the team, Phil was almost overwhelmed by how eagerly everyone welcomed him, and doted on him. And if there were gleeful glances at his closeness to Melinda, and her obvious happiness in his recovery, he pretended not to notice those.

“I’m not sick!” he protested when Jemma brought him a second helping of chicken pot pie—his favourite—and fresh asparagus.

Fitz glanced up at his boss with a twinkle in his eyes. “Might as well enjoy it, sir. She’ll be back to nagging you about your exercise and your blood pressure and all those things before you know it.”

The jocularity and banter, the casual support of their Director, was like a balm to Phil’s spirit. He found himself laughing and engaging with all of his team, taking the time to talk with each one individually, and thanking them quietly again for all their support and loyalty to him, to SHIELD. Melinda, watching him as she drank her tea, saw the return of the leader they all followed with such devotion—the man she loved unreservedly and would lay down her life for. And when he looked up from his conversations with Daisy, with Fitzsimmons, with Mack and Yoyo and the rest of the team, his eyes would find hers and his smile brightened everyone’s hearts, but especially May’s.

If the rest of the team was happy to see their boss recovering and returning to his normal self, Melinda was ecstatic. She was also more relaxed than anyone had ever seen her, especially those who hadn’t known her pre-Bahrain. It was obvious that the couple were deeply in love, as Yoyo had suggested to Coulson those months back when she had told him to stop delaying and make a move.

Melinda and Yoyo would catch each other’s eyes and grin quietly, while the men talked on about cars or gaming or the latest tech to come out of the Triskelion. But even while Phil engaged with his friends—his family—and carried on like his normal self, he quietly kept touching Melinda, whether he was holding her hand, or just resting his arm on her shoulder or playing with her hair. He was clearly a man utterly and blissfully in love, and despite everyone’s initial worry, showing his characteristic strength and pushing past the nightmares he had endured with the late, unlamented senator Nadeer. When Daisy teased him, he would look innocently at her with his blue eyes shining with mischief, and then grin hugely. And she’d roll her eyes but then look at her mentor and her SO, and her smile would speak volumes.

And then came the change. Melinda had gotten up at 5am to go practice her Tai Chi; after she returned, shrugging off her workout clothes and having a quick warm shower, she slipped quietly into bed wearing one of Phil’s Captain America t-shirts, and simple cotton underwear, as was her norm. She listened for a moment to Phil’s breathing, then she realized he was awake just as his warm arms came around her and his mouth caught hers in a gentle kiss. That kiss quickly grew more passionate.

“Hi!” he whispered when they parted for air. “I missed you, you know.”

“I’ve been gone what, an hour?” she giggled quietly. “You knew where I was and that I’d be back.”

“Yes, but I still missed you. Let me show you,” he said in a husky voice, pulling her close to him and finding her lips again. His hands began wandering over her, touching her so quietly and softly but confidently with his fingertips, and she began to feel warmth building in her core. And then she felt his hand touch her mound, and stroke it, and tenderly touch her folds like they were petals on a rose. And she moaned as she felt her desire build.

“Are you sure, Phil?” she asked quietly. “There is no rush, love. Not if you’re not ready.”

In answer, he drew her hand down to his groin, where she met the silken hard warmth of him, erect and eager. “I’m ready,” he murmured. “Let me show you how much I love and need you.”

Melinda gasped into his mouth, and circled Phil’s cock with her strong smooth hand, eliciting a moan from him which she caught and swallowed with her lips on his. Their tongues danced tenderly as they kissed wetly and deeply and without hesitation, and Melinda could feel the tension building inside her. Still, she hesitated…

Until she opened her eyes and found Phil staring into them with a tender expression that made her longing even deeper. She remembered the night months before on the Bus, when she had asked him to open his shirt and show her his scar, when she told him that he was changed and would feel different, but that he had survived. He had gazed at her with a soft, vulnerable and willing expression in his beautiful eyes, and she had thought then that she might have kissed him. Now, seeing that same tenderness, she had no reservations about joining their mouths again, and as they did, she felt him shift and move above her.

“It’s time,” he said softly. “We have waited forever, and that’s long enough. We’ve paid enough prices, too. I need you, Mel. Only you. Always you.” He tugged his t-shirt off her, causing her to moan in desire as he met her breasts eagerly, embracing each one as if it was made of silk and bone china. She encouraged him, holding his head down gently so he could taste each nipple, and lick and kiss his way around each breast before coming back to claim her lips. Then he was exploring, down her neck, down her chest, down her belly…and claiming her pussy with his mouth and tongue.

Melinda felt dizzy with desire, but she was still hesitant and watchful, making sure that Phil was okay. He was more than okay, apparently, as he teased her with his mouth and fingers until she stiffened, cried his name and let the first waves of orgasm wash over her.

“That’s it, love, that’s it…let go, Mel,” he told her, when he lifted his face from her warm, moist folds. He licked his lips and smiled at her, and slid back up to her mouth, so she could taste herself on him. And then he shifted a little, and his cock was sliding into her like it was coming home.

They both gasped—she at his size and strength, he at her tight warm wetness—and they were motionless for a moment as they savoured this new step. Any lingering concerns Melinda had about Phil’s readiness to take this step, any reluctance to give in to his desire, vanished as he smiled tenderly at her, covered her lips with his, and began to move in rhythm with her.

Phil was awash in sensations as he made love to Melinda. The nightmares of the previous week were fading, washed away by his lover’s hands, mouth, heart…all the grief and fear and anguish was disappearing with each stroke he made into his beloved. Melinda rose to meet him, wrapping her legs around his waist, nipping his shoulder, pulling him closer and deeper into her. Their kisses were fierce, open mouthed and hungry, trailing away from each other’s lips to explore more of each other, then rejoining wildly. Phil’s passion was driving higher and higher as he sought Melinda’s neck and kissed and licked and sucked her delicate skin. He knew there would be a mark and he hoped she wouldn’t mind—he was proud, proud to be loved by her, proud to love her, so much in love with her he didn’t care if the whole universe knew. He gazed down at the beautiful woman wrapped around him and whispered “I love you. Always you.”

Melinda gasped and pulled him tighter, clamping her walls down on his cock as she felt the tingling build in her spine and her muscles begin to tremble. “Phil…it’s always been you. Always. Always. As long as I breathe I’ll love you…” and then she cried out without words. He answered with a deep groan and caught her lips with his again, and they breathed their love and their orgasms into each other.

For a few moments the room was silent except for their breathing, as they came down from the heights they had taken each other to. Melinda opened her eyes and lifted her head from Phil’s shoulder, smiling as she gazed up into his beloved face. And Phil was awash in joy, staring back at his love, the adoration he saw in her deep brown eyes reflected back to her in his own. “My love,” he whispered. “You’re all the missing pieces in my life. My soul mate, my partner. My Melinda.” He caught her hands in his and held them to his lips tenderly as he gazed back at her, smiling the sweet, carefree smile she had loved in him since they first met at the Academy those years ago.

His eyes were clear, all the shadows he had carried for so long dispersed by the warmth of Melinda’s love.

“Now,” she murmured, “Maybe we should test out the shower together before we get to work?”

“We’re not going to work today,” Phil replied tenderly. “We can have that shower, but we have something to plan.”

Melinda quirked an eyebrow at him. “What are we planning?” she asked.

“Just the rest of our lives together,” he replied with a smile. “And maybe practicing a little more at expressing our feelings.”

“Those sound like excellent plans,” Melinda’s face lit up with her love for him as he reached for her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a wrap, folks! Thank you for all your comments and kudos...I hope you've enjoyed this little romp.

**Author's Note:**

> A multi-part story that was inspired by the way Senator Nadeer looked at Coulson


End file.
